in shades of plastic yesterdays
the silhouette carousel spins me around
and around a cold steel cage

and it is your breath i want to drown in
setting free some broken wings
seething life and love and everything
from words we haven't even spoken yet

singing melodies and catchy tunes
we can play them all together
on our heart strings luring suns and moons
and we can watch them set and rise and fall
again and again forever

and the hopelessness would melt away
with a looming whisper of summer
silver-lining an echo of spring

Skip the winter baby
'cause i cant seem to want this
to feel so cold anymore
not without you
and the mornings in each others arms
with the bright lit sky breeding days anew
could keep us warm together

As I am falling into the abyss,
I try to hold on to a thing,
yet there is no way to resist
cold-blooded gravity of swing.

My head chill air begins to hit,
and with the accelerating speed
I'm wondering: "Shall this be it?"
My eyes feel heavy, I think: "Indeed."

A moment later I hear them scream,
as time slows down I face a flow,
I follow it and think: "Bad dream,"
Eyes closed farewelled by dancing snow.

Streetlights glow softly tonight, oh such a simple delight,
Fleeting through the blurred streets, how quick my heartbeats,
Footsteps in snow; paired with faces aglow,
Pitter-pat they go,
Down in Trafalgar Square

A Nordic pine so fine, a true one of a kind,
Upon which one could not scribe such beauty in mere rhyme,
And you'll know it's the right time
When ears hear tunes of glee, eyes see sights carefree,
For it is the season of joy and celebration,
Down in Trafalgar Square

An erratic cold sigh
swoons through the valley
last winter hollow kiss
portends a grim frenzy

Clogged icy pine needles
under snowy blanket
lying on the forest path
love with spring has chilled

Waiting to melt
after a dewy dawn
winter reigns once again
before letting the sun in

The smell of fresh summer peaches fill the air,
a willow tree blows gently under a sunny abyss.
Silence fills the caterpillars cocoon and here I lay under the moon.
Hot night, soft breeze, smell of whiskey underneath the trees.
Crops are a grow'n' and the farmers fiddle sits on the hay.
Bonfires, beers and roasting fish on a smear rod snicket.
In the distance the scare crow stands tall and strong to protect the farmers land.
Animals squawk, hibernate and lock themselves in for a winter cold coming ahead.
Snowflakes fall, warm stew to be made by mom, morning comes, cup of chow time to relax with grandpa Jo.
Seasons pass and Spring is here at last,
muddy puddles, ***** feet, time to plant more growing seeds.
Life is beautiful, so is time, make it right and you shall find,
the touch, and warmth of every goodnight